You're Not From Around Here, Are You?
by ltjvt1026
Summary: Being from Kentucky,why do you think Raylan wears a cowboy hat? This is my take on it. R&R please.


**Disclaimer: This is a work of **_**fan **_**fiction. No copyright infringement is intended. It's just me writing for my own amusement and others enjoyment.**

**Authors Note: **I got called in on Saturday to work a twelve hour tour. When I work I write. I've already done two stories in my other fandom (NCIS), so I was not up for another. This story has been kicking around in my idea book for a while. Based on the other two stories I wrote for 'Justified' I worked up a half assed timeline for Raylan based on Tim Olyphant's birthday (5-20-68). Raylan left Harlan at nineteen and went to college (figure Sept. of 1987), graduated Eastern Kentucky University (figure May of 1991), joined the Marshal's Service and went to FLETC (figure June of 1991), graduated from FLETC (figure Nov of 1991) and got his first assignment. If anybody has a better timeline I'm all ears. I always wondered how a coal camp kid from Eastern Kentucky wound up wearing a cowboy hat and boots. This story attempts to explain that. Enjoy.

**Office of the United States Marshal for the Northern District of Texas, Dallas, TX**

Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens was waiting to see his new boss, the US Marshal for the Northern District of Texas. This was Raylan's first assignment. As he waited, the same butterflies that visited him before kick off in college were much in evidence. Earlier this morning Givens reported to the Chief Deputy Marshal, did some paperwork and now was waiting to see the 'big boss'.

The phone on the secretary's desk purred quietly. She picked it up and listened. 'Yes sir' she said placing the handset back in its cradle. She smiled at Raylan.

"You can go in now Deputy Givens."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Raylan rose and moved to the door opening it, entering the inner sanctum of US Marshal James 'Jimmie' Franklin. The office was paneled in dark wood. There was a navy blue carpet with a replica of a Marshal's badge inlaid in it. Along one wall was a couch; on the other side were windows that overlooked Commerce St. The walls were covered with pictures and memorabilia involving the Marshal. Givens advanced into the room stopping about two feet from Marshal Franklin's desk.

"Deputy Givens, sir."

Jimmie Franklin looked up amusedly from behind his desk. He arose and came around the desk, sticking out his hand.

"Relax Deputy, this ain't FLETC." He pronounced it 'flet-cee'.

Raylan shook hands, relaxing slightly.

"Yes sir."

"Have a seat."

As the Marshal went back behind his desk he motioned to a chair that was in front of it. Raylan sat, as did the Marshal. Franklin looked at Givens appraisingly.

"First let me welcome you to the Office. I meet with all my new deputies, look 'em in the eye and tell 'em what I expect. What I expect is one hundred ten percent effort."

"Yes Sir."

Franklin smiled.

"How I work it is, you'll get a month with each of our units, so you get a good overview of how an Office really operates. You'll be evaluated by each unit's supervisor. Then after consulting with all of them, I'll decide where you'll be assigned. Clear?"

"Yes sir."

"I've looked over your file. Overall it's very impressive. But I see your firearms scores are off the charts. But, I don't see any military service."

"Well sir, I did a lot of hunting back in Kentucky. For some reason shooting just comes naturally to me."

Franklin grunted.

"According to Tucker McQueene, you're 'the best goddamn shot for a rookie I've seen in many a day'. Tucker doesn't hand out accolades like that lightly."

Raylan looked slightly embarrassed.

"Deputy Marshal McQueene was a great instructor sir. He taught me a lot."

"Be that as it may, I'm still going to have you talk to Chris Thomas, the head of our Emergency Response Team. We usually don't put new deputies on the team, but I'll let Chris speak on that. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No sir, I don't."

Franklin stood behind his desk, causing Raylan to stand. The Marshal leaned forward, again offering his hand.

"In that case, get to work Deputy."

Givens shook hands.

"Yes Sir."

**One month later**

Raylan Givens leaned back in his chair, taking a break from typing. The first unit he'd been assigned to was Assets & Forfeitures. He hoped he would not be permanently assigned here.

_Didn't sign up to be Uncle Sam's repo man._

He'd heard from other deputies that A&F and Court Security were the least desirable assignments in the office. Raylan sighed and turned back to his keyboard.

"Hey, Ray."

Givens turned in his seat to see Deputy Tom Harris grinning at him.

_I've told everybody, him included that it's 'Raylan', not 'Ray'._

"What's up Tom?"

"Bunch of us are goin' to 'Billy Bob's', want to come along?"

Raylan gave it some thought. He hadn't been to 'Billy Bob's Texas' yet. It was the biggest honky tonk in the state.

"Sure Tom. What time?"

"Say about five thirty?"

"I'll be there."

**Billy Bob's Texas, Fort Worth**

Raylan Givens walked into Billy Bob's about an hour late. There'd been a glitch in his paperwork, so he needed an extra hour to finish. After circling the bar a couple of times he spotted Tom. Raylan waved and walked over. There were several other deputies grouped around a stand up table.

"Hey Ray, ya made it."

"Yeah, sorry I'm late Tom. Paperwork snafu."

"No problem, have a beer."

Tom slid Raylan a bottle of Coors.

"Thanks."

Givens looked around the bar/honky tonk. Even at six thirty, the place was mobbed. The dance floor was packed and people were two deep at the bar. Raylan sipped his beer and tried to figure out the nagging feeling he had. A pretty brown haired waitress walked up.

"Get you fellas another round?"

One of the other deputies reached for his wallet, but Raylan spoke up.

"I've got it."

The waitress smiled.

"Okay, be right back handsome."

As the girl walked away the other deputies hooted.

"Way to go Ray."

"Nice work New Guy."

When the waitress came back, Raylan paid for the round and left the change on the tray.

"Thanks handsome. You're not from around here, are you?"

Raylan blinked.

"What makes you say that?"

"No hat, no boots."

It was true, Givens was bare headed and wearing loafers.

"Oh."

"You're still kinda cute though."

The girl grinned, spun around and sashayed away. As the other guys gave him the business, Raylan looked around.

_She's right. I'm pretty much the only person in here with no hat. Hell, I'm probably the only person here with no hat._

For some reason, that fact bothered Raylan.

**Two days later, 1645hrs**

After work, Raylan Givens walked down Commerce St. about three blocks from the courthouse. The store was right where Tom said it would be. It didn't look like much. There was a display of hats and boots in the window. Over the doorway was 'Raymond's 'in gold script. Givens walked in. There was an older gentleman behind the counter. He could have been fifty or eighty, it was hard to tell.

"May I help you sir?"

Raylan cleared his throat.

"Yes, I'm looking for a hat and a pair of boots."

"Of course, right this way please."

The man led Givens deeper into the store, to a display of hats. Raylan took his time studying them. After several minutes he saw the hat he wanted. It had a low crown and a leather hatband. The light brown, almost beige color would match his suits well. He indicated his choice and the man asked his size. Raylan gave it and the man disappeared into a back room. He came back a few minutes later with a hatbox.

"Excellent choice sir. Stetson makes a fine hat."

The sales clerk took the hat out of the box and handed it to Raylan. Givens tried it on looking in a mirror.

'I'll take it. What about boots?"

"Certainly, over here please."

The boot display was just as expansive as the hats. After several minutes Raylan touched a pair.

"These."

"Nocoma smooth ostrich. What size?"

After getting his size, the man brought him the boots to try on. They fit just fine.

"They feel great; I'll take 'em."

"Very good. Will there be anything else?"

"No, that's all."

_Think I'll pass on the string ties._

"Right this way then please."

They went back to the front counter and Raylan paid for his purchases. He smiled as he hit the sidewalk.

_Now at least I'll look like I'm from around here._

**A/N: **What happened to Raylan in the bar actually happened to me in a place called 'The San Antonio Rose' in Houston Texas back in the mid 80's. Out of about five hundred people in that bar, I was the only one not wearing a cowboy hat. So that's _my _take on why Raylan wears a cowboy hat. What do you think? Leave a review and let me know.


End file.
